


Sea Turtle

by TheWalkingGrimes



Series: Tales of District Four [28]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Dead Finnick Odair, F/M, Gen, Grief, Some internalized ableism, Some mild sexual content (in flashback)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingGrimes/pseuds/TheWalkingGrimes
Summary: Annie turns twenty-six.
Relationships: Annie Cresta & Annie and Finnick's Son, Annie Cresta & Mrs. Everdeen, Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Series: Tales of District Four [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018845
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Sea Turtle

Annie cries when she turns twenty-six.

It’s bittersweet. In many ways, every year older she turns is a victory. She was never supposed to survive, never supposed to make it past seventeen and she’s lived nearly a full decade past what should have been her death. They tried once more when she was twenty-two: first through Reaping her _again_ , and then when that failed they took her into the depths of the Capitol and tried to break her apart piece by piece. 

So some of the tears that she cries are happy ones, because she knows how blessed she is to be alive. 

But some of them are not.

Clara Everdeen comes over in the late morning, and offers to go with them to the beach. She took the day off, because she knows. She always knows. Clara didn’t come to Four for Annie - she came because they were building a new hospital and needed staff and it was somewhere that wasn’t Twelve. She didn’t come to Four for Annie, but she’s been there for every step of her pregnancy, and her birth, and every time Annie has called her in a panic because Rio’s head was a little hot to the touch. 

_(When Annie is feeling unkind, she thinks that it is easier for Clara to immerse herself in someone else’s tragedy than to face her own. But more often than not she feels nothing but gratitude for the older woman’s support.)_

As they prepare to head out, Annie’s eyes catch on the photo by her bedside. She picks it up and rubs the glass of the frame under her fingers with reverence.

She packs it away into her bag, at the bottom where no one else will see it. Even though she doubts Clara would judge her, there is still a voice in Annie’s head that whispers _mad girl_ at her nastily whenever she does something that others would deem odd.

It’s a risk to take the photo too, especially down to the water. Even in the protective frame it could easily become damaged and worn, or even lost. Annie suspects that Cressida has backups, and if she did lose the photo she could request a new one, but the thought of it sends a lump to her throat. 

_Poor little mad girl,_ the voice sings at her in a heavily accented Capitol sneer. _Can’t even leave the house without a piece of paper to cling to._

Annie closes her eyes and counts to ten.

 _Be gentle with yourself, Annie._ She reminds herself in a soothing and cool tone, letting it wash over her like waves. _Don’t hurt yourself. Don’t keep doing their work for them._

They head down to the beach and Rio immediately squeals in delight and toddles into the ocean. Clara hisses between her teeth, always wary about the waves knocking the little boy down - even after years of living here she still doesn’t fully trust the water. Annie’s eyes dance with amusement and she gives the older woman a reassuring squeeze.

_(“You know what I just realized?”_

_Annie huffs, because is_ now _really the time for realizations? But Finnick looks up at her with what she would think was genuine concern, if it weren’t for the sparkle in his eye._

Trouble, _her mother would have said if she knew him._ That boy is nothing but trouble.

_“What did you just realize, Finnick?” Annie asks him as patiently as she can with his fingers inside her._

_“If we_ do _have a baby-” and that phrase sends a spark of electricity down her spine, so that she clenches around him almost instinctively. Finnick grins at her, pleased with himself for causing that reaction with just his words - and his eyes gleam with something that Annie recognizes as pure joy. “If we do have a baby, will it really be a District Four baby? Or will it be a District Thirteen baby if it’s conceived here?”_

 _Annie rolls her eyes. This is such a Finnick_ _question. “I don’t think that matters. The baby might even not be born in District Four-”_

_“Oh no it will.” Finnick insists, “I don’t care if we have to commandeer a hovercraft, we’re getting you to Four for the birth.”_

_“Well, first I have to actually_ get _pregnant, which you’re not going to be able to accomplish with just your fingers-”_

_Finnick kisses her stomach, still playful but a tinge of apologetic sheepishness. “I’m sorry my love. Indulge me for a minute?”_

_She runs her fingers through his hair, unable to stay annoyed at him for too long. “I don’t think it matters where the baby is conceived, or born. Because it’ll be_ our _baby, and we’ll raise it in Four.”_

_“Our little sea turtle.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_Finnick moves up so that he’s hovering over her, and kisses her with almost heartbreaking gentleness. “We’re really doing this? You’re sure?”_

_Annie cups his face in her hands and rubs her thumbs over his cheeks._

_When she had shakily admitted to him a few days ago that she wanted a baby, Finnick had scrambled off the bed and tossed the condoms into the trash with such comical swiftness it had sent Annie into tears of laughter._

_But then, with his jokes done, he sat down with her and they talked it out. All the risks, the dangers of her being pregnant when they’ve been displaced from their home, when the outcome of the war is still uncertain. He’s already so scared of what could happen to her, the thought of her being pregnant and hurt terrifies him so much that he cried when he admitted it to her._

_He wants this, though. Maybe it’s irrational, but they both have been filled with this_ need _ever since their wedding._

_If Annie’s honest with herself, the need has been around for much longer than they’ve been married. Since the day that he slipped his mother’s old and tarnished ring on her finger, and Annie cried when she realized that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Or the time they went out into town and a tiny girl ran up to Finnick and he asked her keen questions about her favorite sea creature and what she was studying in school and carried on the conversation far past when most adults would have gotten impatient._

_“I want us to be a family.” Annie tells him with certainty. “I don’t want to wait any more than we’ve already had to.”_

_“We’re already a family.” Finnick kisses her again, his gaze adoring. “But I think we’ve got room for one more. One little sea turtle swimming around.”_

_Annie pretends to consider this. “Or maybe... two sea turtles?”_

_”A whole bale of little sea turtles!”_

_”Now you’re pushing it-_ Fin _nick, **shit** , __you can’t just do_ that _whenever you want me to agree with you-“)_

Rio, despite being conceived in a “cement rabbit’s warren” (as Jo would call it), is certainly a child of Four. He giggles and splashes in the water, laughing when he looses his footing and eats a mouthful of sand. Annie keeps a relaxed eye on him, not overly concerned, even as Clara remains tense. 

After a few moments, Annie digs into her bag and pulls out her photo. She hesitates for a second before bringing it into view, but reminds herself that Clara is not going to judge her for wanting her husband with her on her birthday.

Clara looks over at Annie and smiles. 

“I love that photo.”

“It’s my favorite.” Annie admits, rubbing the glass again.

He’s in his soldier uniform and grinning broadly at someone they can’t see, like he’s not even aware that the photo is being taken _(unlikely, Annie thinks. He was always aware of where the cameras were at all times)._ It’s a real smile, probably amused by something happening off-camera. Annie likes to imagine that maybe Katniss is just off-screen, pulling a face at him. 

The photo is more precious to her than any other thing that Annie owns. Cressida gave it to her, while they were in the Capitol and Annie was still numb and torn open by grief. “It’s probably the last one I got of him.” She told Annie. “We were asked to take photos, to release afterward but...” She shook her head and Annie could see that Katniss and Peeta weren’t the only ones who came away from that mission with scars. “I can’t use this. It’s yours.”

She loves their wedding photos, keeps them on her mantle like a shrine, but this photo is perhaps more special because it is most likely the last photo ever taken of her husband. This is the photo that Annie begged Johanna to bring to her when Rio came kicking and screaming into the world, so that she could show him his daddy. 

Annie knows how scared he must have been when he died. This photo is, if nothing else, a reminder that not every moment in those final few days was filled with darkness.

Finnick, at twenty-five, on one of the last days of his life.

“I’m older than him today.” Annie tells Clara, her voice wavering for the first time. 

“I know, honey.” Clara reaches for her hand. “My husband was older than me too, and I remember this day. I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

Annie sniffs, wiping at her face with her other hand. “I didn’t want to. I wanted to just bury myself under the covers and never leave. Because getting up and going on, it’s like admitting… I _know_ he’s gone. I’m not delusional. I stopped expecting him to walk back through that door years ago. But I just never thought I’d be _older_ than him.”

“It’s hard. I know it’s hard. But you got out of bed.” Clara reminds her. “You got up, and you took your boy out. You’re so strong, and I know Finnick would be proud of you. You’re growing into an amazing woman.”

It’s the _growing_ that breaks her. 

“This is all he’ll ever be.” Annie cries, wetting the glass with her falling tears. “He’s never going to change, and he’s never going to _know_ me anymore. I’m changing, I’m already a different person than when he knew me. And he’ll never know the person I am now, or Rio. He’ll never know his family.”

Clara has every right to tell Annie that she has no right to complain, that her pain is nothing compared to that of a grieving mother, but she just pulls Annie into her own shaking arms and kisses the top of her head. “You can’t freeze life, baby girl. No matter how badly you want to. It keeps moving forward and we have to move with it. Sometimes, that just means swinging your feet out of the bed in the morning and putting on one shoe at a time.”

Annie leans into her, taking comfort in the bond that they have forged. Widows, from opposite sides of the country, drawn together by circumstance. One a girl who lost her mother young, the other a woman who lost her precious daughter _far_ too young. 

It’s one of the most important relationships in her life now. Yet another thing Finnick will never know about her. Just as he’ll never know she likes the maple sugar cookies from the new bakery in town. He’ll never tease her for her newly developing forehead wrinkles. He will never hold his son. He will never know that Rio’s first word was ‘Mama.’ He will never play with Rio in the waves, teach him how to pick out the best shells or how to fish or to sail.

“Mama!” Rio’s squeaky voice calls her attention. He’s waving something bright and spiky at her that makes Clara tense. “Look what I found!”

Annie wipes away her tears and rises to her feet with a smile. “What have you got there, baby?”

“It’s a shell!” He chirps, holding the conch shell toward her as she wades out to him.

“That’s beautiful, Rio.” 

“For you!” Her son exclaims, pushing it insistently into her hand. “Birfday!”

Annie leans down and kisses him on his soft bronze curls, dampened with the salt water. “Thank you baby, that’s very sweet of you. I love it!”

Her son beams up at her. He’s the loveliest person Annie has ever known. 

In some other alternate reality, _he’s_ here on the beach, playfully dunking Rio under the water and exclaiming over the shell. Maybe in this other world, Rio’s first word was ‘Dada.’

In a completely different world, he’s here and Annie isn’t.

But this is _this_ world. And time keeps moving forward.

Annie takes her son by the hand. 

_You would have loved him so much, Finnick. Our little sea turtle._

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The older I get, the sadder I become about how _young_ Annie and Finnick were in the series. Annie was only 21/22 at oldest and Finnick was 24/25. Their lives were just starting out and they had already been through so much, and FINNICK DESERVED TO LIVE. 
> 
> (Also, yes, Katniss is absolutely the person off-camera that he's smiling at.)


End file.
